


Of Lust

by willneverbeordinary



Series: Matters of the Heart [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willneverbeordinary/pseuds/willneverbeordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touch doesn't come easy, but it comes easier than words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Lust

Hannibal feels Will’s hands splayed against his lower back and then the pressure of thumbs digging into the muscle. He tenses and the pressure increase. He reaches out, catches Will’s wrist with his hand and Will breaks loose and pins Hannibal’s arm against his back. The moment Will grabs his wrist feels like falling and the second he locks Hannibal’s arm, feels like sudden warmth through all his limbs. Hannibal relaxes against the mattress and Will lets go of him, hands once again moving along his spine. 

The scent of Will rolls over him, like fog through a forest, and Hannibal closes his eyes, his mouth, and breathes in deep. Letting his mouth fall open he exhales a warm, damp breath against the sheets.

Will’s hands have reached his shoulders. Hannibal curves his back, places his palms flat against the bed. And he feels Will’s hand against his neck, fingers curling cruelly. He turns his head and bares his teeth and feels the touch of Will’s teeth against his skin. They rest as a barely there pressure where his shoulder and neck meet.

He smiles. A smile that is almost like a taste in his mouth, warm and savory, or music in his mind. Notes bleeding into shape; sounds beginning crisp and new but quickly falling into rhythm. He feels the pressure of Will’s teeth disappear and feels Will move above him. Feels knees pressed against his hips and fingers working the muscles in his shoulders, pressing to the point of pain. A thumb digs into his trapezius muscle, right where the rhomboid major muscle is, and a low grunt accompanies the movement. The air leave his lungs in a sigh. Fingers travel his back, feather light, and he arches and inhales air that feels thin and light. Every point of connection a note, every movement weaving them together in a score coming to life like the flare of sparks. Instant and temporary; a fading echo upon the retina gone in a blink. The melody nestles into his chest and swells against his ribs and trickles past them. It doesn't leave much room for air.

He feel Will’s hands stop moving, feels the warmth of him so close and hot breaths against his neck. His own breathing ceases then and when Will’s lips touch his skin, high up on his shoulder, air pours into his lungs in a dizzying flood.

The touch of fingers returns at the hem of his sleepwear pants and he shifts his hips as they get tugged down. He’s naked underneath and a hand runs from the end of his lower back and over one cheek where it grabs. He pushes into the touch with a soft noise and a moan through gritted teeth sounds back at him. Fingers touch and tease and he arches and pushes back against them when they return slick and prodding. The symphony in his chest beats wildly inside of his heart and he gives a cut off groan as he arches against Will, gripping the sheets and biting his lip. Will removes his fingers and Hannibal feels the blunt press of Will’s erection and he tries to push himself to his knees but a hand between his shoulderblades forces him down. He twists his body and an arm wraps around his throat and he grunts against the pressure against his Adam’s apple.

Will pushes inside slowly and once he’s buried Hannibal feels Will’s face pressed against his shoulder, short, hot breaths against his skin. Hannibal reaches for Will and feels soft hair between his fingers but it slips as Will pulls his head away. He reaches further behind his back and his wrist is caught and he yanks as it is stretched above his head and pressed down into the mattress.

He bucks and Will’s weight shift. A hand tries to grab his hair but he twists and turns and throws Will off. It dislodges them and he registers the sudden emptiness as a contracting, imploding kind of pain and takes one breath deeper than the others, hold it just a second longer.

Hannibal straddles Will and looks down at his face. Looking into his eyes is like finding himself in the middle of a storm. Like turning his face up against the whipping rain – eyes closed and arms outstretched. Like he’s at sea in the middle of waves high enough to caress the sky and currents strong enough to tear apart anything mankind might be foolish enough to feed it. He blinks hard. Fingers touch his cheek then, soft as snow. A caress that melts away.

Hannibal ducks his head.

He reaches out, finds Will’s face beneath his hand. He cups his cheek and looks at his mouth, his nose. At his cheeks and forehead and the dark curls of hair that spill like a halo against the white of the pillow.

A force of nature captured in contrast and color on the artist’s canvas.

Hannibal lets his fingers twine in Will’s hair and meets his gaze. “Aš tave myliu.”

Will looks back at him, blinks rapidly a few times and parts his lips but only a small noise escapes. He grasps for Hannibal and pulls him down and Hannibal finds himself with his cheek to Will’s chest and the sound of his beating heart drumming in muffled waves. Hannibal shuts his eyes tightly and clings to Will as he mumbles ‘I love you’ in damp puffs against his skin in Lithuania.

He hears Will’s heavy breathing and the barely there touch of a sound clinging to nearly every exhale; almost-gasps and hints of moans. Fingers with blunt nails dragging down his back, hard erection pushed up against his groin.

He shifts, lifts himself up a fraction, and lets a hand travel down Will’s chest and slide down his stomach. He feels the twitch of muscles in Will’s belly underneath his palm and the uneven scar tissue against his fingertips. He traces it and hears Will’s breathing hitch. Hannibal’s hand travels down and he wraps his fingers around Will’s hard length and Will pushes into the touch. Hannibal licks his lips, moves his hand in firm strokes, and watches how Will’s hips jerk. He places the palm of his other hand against Will’s scar once more and feels the muscles below contract and how Will gives a more forceful thrust into Hannibal’s fist. Lifting his gaze he watches the ebb and flow of Will’s body. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his jaw moves. His head tilted back, neck exposed, and how his throat works as he swallows.

Hannibal stops his hand, positions himself and slowly he begins to sink down on Will’s cock, feeling his own body resisting at first and the slight give as he can sink lower. He makes a clipped grunt and licks his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down and holding off from dropping his weight and taking it all at once. When he feels his body yield to the intrusion he sinks down completely.

Will’s hands immediately grab his hips and he gasps and bows his back beneath Hannibal. Hannibal places his hand against Will’s chest and pushes him down and watches as he twists and how his head tips back again and how it exposes his throat. He leans down and presses his mouth to Will’s pulse point and feels the rapid pound of it against his tongue. He pulls his tongue into his mouth and let his teeth press down and Will makes a gasp. A hand grasps Hannibal’s hair and a soft ‘oh’ tumbles from Will’s lips. Hannibal smiles against Will’s skin then.

Mouth against this force of nature below him and in his native tongue Hannibal mumbles against Will’s neck that he must be a fool for wanting to kiss the sea.

Will says nothing in return, only shifts, and his hands come to hold firmly against Hannibal’s hips and he pushes him up just a little and then rolls his hips. Hannibal drops his head and when Will thrusts up again he has to brace himself with both hands against either side of Will’s body. He begins to breathe open mouthed and raggedly as Will’s cock shoves into him in deep, hard thrusts. He curls his back and boxes Will in with his arms, breathes damp huffs of air against Will’s neck and feels Will’s body move against his in steady weaves.

Words beat in his throat, wanting to escape. He draws a shuddering breath and swallows. He feels Will’s speed pick up and rhythm fall apart and Hannibal lifts his head from where he has buried it against Will’s neck and Will’s gasped exhales hit Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal shudders. His throat feels tight. He looks at Will through half-closed eyes. Will’s mouth so close; a siren call to bend down and indeed kiss the sea. Hannibal inhales and feels the dizzying rush of it; feels the tug in his chest and how something contracts low in his abdomen. So close, so very close, and his heart is bursting in his chest. It spills over, blooming into a spray of red that chokes him.  He bares his teeth, bites them together hard. Curls his fingers and around handfuls of bedlinen so hard his nails dig into his palm and his joints protest.

He tears his gaze from Will mouth and sees his eyebrows draw together and listens to his litany of breathy moans. Will tips his head to the side then and pulls Hannibal's hips down and with a gasp he comes inside him, eyes closed and mouth open and body twitching.

Hannibal rolls his hips and turns his face away against his own arm. He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he feels Will’s fingers around his hard length and shuts his eyes tightly. Will grabs his neck and pulls him down and sinks his teeth into Hannibal’s shoulder. With a shudder Hannibal comes, spilling quietly against Will’s hand and stomach. A hand pushing against his arm has him moving and he curls up on his side. The mattress springs and Hannibal lifts his gaze and sees Will leave the room. The scent of them clings to the air and he breathes in. He closes his eyes. There’s the sound of a door opening and closing and then the creaking of pipes and he shuts his eyes tightly.

When the mattress dips he turns. The covers are tugged and he shifts. He curls close to the warmth of Will’s body, breathes in the scent of water. His lungs contract and it takes a while until he can draw another breath.

“Should I sleep in my bed instead?”

Hannibal reaches out, feels warm, still slightly damp skin as his fingers touches Will’s shoulder. “If you wish.”

“It’s been a year.”

“We have been here longer than that.” He looks at Will, pushes his hand into his wet hair.

Will lies on his back, gaze at the ceiling. “We haven’t been _intimate_ in this way the entire time.”

“We have been badly injured. Healing takes time.”

He hears Will sigh. A hand touches his and he pulls away. Will turns his head and Hannibal can’t quite make out his eyes clearly in the dark.

“Maybe some wounds run too deep.”

Hannibal draws his hands closer to his own body. The ribbons of his storm-torn heart rip back and forth, clawing against the gale trying to garb hold.

“You still want to kill me.” He looks at Will and can make out how Will’s lips curls.

Will gives a little laugh and Hannibal frowns.

“It doesn’t matter if I _want_ to or not.”

“Inevitably you will.”

Hannibal watches him, his eyes fall on the hand that Will reaches out. When it stops he looks back at Will’s face.

“I can’t promise I won’t,” Will whispers. “We do what we evolve to do.”

“How will you do it?”

Will licks his lips, break their eye contact for a moment. “You’re not worried about me killing you. You’re worried about me destroying you.”

Hannibal finds it difficult to breathe again. He stops himself from moving and just looks at Will.

“Would you?”

Will doesn’t reply. Instead he moves closer and warm breaths hit Hannibal’s lips and Hannibal closes his eyes as Will kisses him.

 

 

 


End file.
